The Game
by Lady Mythology
Summary: After a night of unprotected sex with Hermione, Harry is left with feelings of... love? Why else would he have sex with Hermione? he concluded... it had to be because he loves her.
1. Drunken Celebration

Harry lay in bed after a drunken celebration (not but last night had he defeated _him_) to see the most beautiful woman lying next to him. He pushed her brown curls off of her face and-

"Hermione?" he asked, shocked.

She mumbled and rolled over, still asleep.

Harry's mind was racing- had he just had sex with Hermione the night before?

He rubbed his eyes and thought it but a dream. He looked around the room and noted it wasn't his. Where was he?

There were pictures hung around the room of him, Ron, and Hermione from their first year in Hogwarts to their last. It definitely wasn't Ron's room- he'd know Ron's room; they shared a flat. So that left it to be Hermione's.

Harry found his clothes thrown hap-hazardly around the room and put them on as quietly as possible; he didn't want to wake Hermione.

He proceeded out the closed door and found his way to the kitchen where he prepared a feast fit for a king. He wasn't hungry, though. He left a well-worded letter to Hermione, but made it clear no to sign his name at the bottom. He let the ink dry before he altered the handwriting; Hermione was bound to notice. And then he thought, why else would he have sex with Hermione if he didn't love her. That didn't work, as she and Ron had been dating for agres… _How long _had_ it been that she and Ron were dating_? wondered Harry as he apperated away.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Hermione woke to the distinct 'pop' of someone apperating away. She pushed back the covers to see she didn't have anything on. That was… odd. She found her dressing gown, put it on, took her wanrd, and made her way to the kitchen to see a feast fit for a king. That was even odder…

She grasped her wand and did a check to see if the food was poisoned. Finding no trace of poison, she sat down in her usual spot and found a letter scrawled hastily and in no handwriting she had ever seen.

As she was reading, memories came back from last night. She felt oddly sick and ran for the bathroom and wretched into the toilet. Who was the man? No matter how long she sat, waiting for the person's name to come to mind, she couldn't figure out who he was!

She prayed, with all her might, on the floor in the bathroom, that it _was _Ron and that she _wasn't _pregnant. She vividly recalled telling the man _not _to put on a condom. Why in god's name _hadn't _she told him to put one on? Had she wanted to become pregnant with his child?

That was it! She had wanted to become pregnant to get out of her relationship with Ron. But why? Why? She couldn't, for the life of her, think of the answer.

Ron was not abusive; he loved her; lavished her with gifts; and was constantly reminding her that he loved her. And then a thought crossed her mind. _Do I really love him? _

But that was preposterous! She loved Ron with all her heart… or, so she thought.

Who was always there for her, no matter what? Who cared for her and let her cry on his shoulder? Definitely not Ron. He always left when she got teary and, no matter how much he said, "I love you," she had never returned the statement. So, she concluded that she, in fact, did _not _love Ron. And now… to break it to him.


	2. The Worrub

"The Worrub," said Hermione and threw in a handful of flew powder. Hermione blushed. "A-hem!"

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. He was cooking breakfast… with a towel wrapped around his waist and still-damp hair from his morning shower.

"Sorry, didn't hear you pop in," he said and grabbed onto the towel to make sure it wouldn't fall off.

She rolled her eyes, saying, "That's because I didn't. I floo-ed over. I was hoping I could talk with Ron?"

Harry gulped. That didn't sound good. He gave a mental shiver and shook his head, saying, "Hermione. Did you even notice what time it is?"

She shook her head and said, "That would be a problem why?"

Harry let out a laugh. "Hello?! It's not even eight in the morning! And Ron normally sleeps until-"

"-Noon," she finished, "Completely forgot. I'll be going now…"

"Oh, what a bad house guest I am!" Harry said, "Let me go get changed and then we can have a lovely breakfast together!"

"That's not needed, I've already ate."

Some color drained out of Harry's face as he remembered he made her a breakfast fit for a king.

"Are- are you alright?" asked Hermione.

"Uh, just- just remembered I have to do-"

"Something?" she said; disappointment laced her voice.

He got a glass of cold water, told Hermione to follow him, and silently opened Ron's door. They tip-toed over to his bed and Harry poured the water on Ron's face. After he had calmed down, Harry left to dress and left Ron and Hermione to talk alone.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

"Ron," started Hermione, "I-"

"Hey, babe."

"Ron."

"What're our plans for today?"

"_Ron!" _

He raised his eyebrows with a funny look on his face. "Yes?"

"First off, how many times have I told you _not _to call me babe?" He grinned sheepishly. "Second off, we have no plans today." Ron frowned. "And, third," she sighed.

"I love you?" he tried.

She got up, went to the door and turned back around. "One normally would _stop _saying 'I love you,' after said person doesn't get it back!" She slammed the door shut and re-opened it moments later. "How long _have _we been dating?"

"Three weeks and two days!"

"And in those three weeks and two days, you've said, 'I love you,' seventy-two times. I've replied back how many times."

Ron thought and Hermione answered for him, "None." She sat down next to him.

"Ron, this is going to come across very harsh, but I don't see any better way of doing this. Last night, I had sex with someone whom I don't even remember. I'm guessing it wasn't you."

Ron shook his head. Hermione sighed and told him what she recalled earlier this morning. "Whenever I'm 'moody,' you run away. When I need a shoulder to cry on, you're not there. And the only conclusion I could come to was that 1) you don't really love me and 2) I don't really love you back.

Ron sighed and understood. "I guess part of being a boyfriend means that I have to be there during the good and the bad times." Hermione nodded. "I mean, it'll be difficult with the feeling that I _think _I still love you, but I guess you're right; I have to be there when a girls 'moody' _and _when she's emotional.

Hermione smacked Ron upside the head and laughed. "When we cry just doesn't mean that we're emotional, Ronald."

"I know," he said, and laughed some more. Then he did a very noble thing; he stuck out his hand and said, "Friends?"

Hermione took it, shook it and said, "Friends."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

AN: Uhm, heh? I forgot to state this in the previous chapter: it's called, "Name Pending" because I can't think of a title. Any ideas? And I wouldn't call this a story with a plot, but I also _wouldn't _call it a story without a plot. Each chapter will go where it goes. Best I can say. And, if anyone has any ideas, leave 'em in a review!

All my love,  
Ella


	3. The Beginning of The Game

Harry sighed.

Home sweet home.

It was good to be home. He normally stayed with Ron but came back home when he was on Quidditch trips.

Harry walked to his office (that doubled as Hedwig's home. Yes, he live in his parents house- er, Mansion but the one thing it lacked was a place to house Hedwig).

"Girl, I have a favor," said Harry to Hedwig and shifted the book he was holding into a more comfortable position. She hooted apprehensively.

"You know that I never send mail to Hermione, right?" She hooted again.

"Well, I wanna play a sort of game with her but I don't want her to know it's me."

Hedwig glared at him. Harry got mad.

"Fine, if you don't want to play a game with us, I'll just have to find another owl that does."

"Hoot?" Her amber eyes were big, round and sad looking.

"Yes, another owl!" Harry finally snapped.

"Hoot!"

"You'll do it?"

She nodded her head.

Harry opened the book he brought up and showed her some pictures of owls.

And then Hedwig had an idea!

She nodded her head to a black owl with white patterning. She bustled her wings and bobbed her head. Harry was puzzled.

Hedwig shook her body and hooted. Harry just raised an eyebrow. She gave a frustrated hoot. Her wing pointed at picture of herself then to the owl on the page.

"You like that one?"

She shook her head no.

"Hoot, hoot!"

"I don't speak owl!" Harry snapped again.

She glared at him. _'Is he not a wizard?'_

"Hoot, squawk; squawk, hoot!"

"Hoot, squawk; squawk, hoot?" Harry repeated.

'Black to white; white to black!' thought Hedwig.

She pointed to the white background.

"Page?"

"Hoot!" She sounded angry.

"White?"

She held up her wings.

"Wings?"

She shook her head and shook each wing respectively.

"Two?"

Hedwig placed her wing on his head.

"Head?"

She shook her head and tousled his hair.

"Hair?"

She pointed at the page again. "Hoot."

"White."

She tousled his hair. "Black?" he said, puzzled.

"Hoot, squawk!"

"White two black?"

Harry thought she rolled her eyes.

"Oh! White _to _black! You want me to change your white body to black and your black patterns to white!"

"Hoot!" She sounded relieved. He quickly complied and the conjured up a mirror so she could look at herself. "Hoot! Hoot!"

Harry laughed at his owl and sat down at his desk to start "The Game."

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Hermione was awoken the following morning to an annoying 'peck-peck-pecking' at her window. She rolled out of bed and threw on her dressing gown. She opened the window and in flew a majestic black owl with pure white patterns.

"Well, aren't you a pretty owl!" she cooed.

The owl just bobbed her head up and down and hooted a few times. Hermione showed the owl where she could rest, eat and/or sleep while she read and replied to the letter.

_Dear Hermione, _started the letter in the same handwriting as the note left on her kitchen table just the other day, _I shall remain nameless but I was just wondering if you were up to a little game. _

_Said game is simple: you ask me questions and I answer_ _them about myself. Every once_ _and a while I'll send you an extra hint. They'll start out complicated, hard to figure out, and get slightly easier each time._

_The first hint is-_

"Hoot!" Hermione glared at the owl. She had done that on purpose!

_The first hint is-_

"Hoot!"

"What?"

"Hoot!" Hermione got up. She had run out of food. Hermione filled the bowl and started reading again.

_The first hint is: my father (insert his name) was beheaded by Herod Agrippa._

_Now it's your turn!_

_Love,_

_Watt the Cook Joyce, aka W.C. Joyce_

Hermione thought for a while. Who _was_ Herod Agrippa?

She got out a quill, ink, and a piece of parchment and started to reply:

_Dear Joyce,_

_Guess I'll start out with the most obvious questions to ask: what is your name? I highly guess you'll tell me because I get the feeling that this is some sort of game that we'll be playing for a while. I do hope to eventually find out who you are and thank you for the most wonderful night of my life. Guess I already did that._

_There's no need to ask if you're a wizard- you're communicating via owl; that's an answer in itself._

_How far away from me do you live? You must know since you were here. And thank you for that most delicious meal you left me last morning. Where did you ever learn to cook that way?!_

_Your owl is hooting at me to finish, so I guess I'll end it here. What is her name? It looks like a her._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

She gave the letter to the owl and watched as s/he took off.

Hermione then got dressed and made a quick breakfast before heading off to St. Mungo's. She was dreading this part.

"Excuse me?" she said to the lady behind the desk, "I have an appointment with Healer Evans?"

"Ah, yes, Ms. Granger, please, have a seat. She'll be with you in a moment.

Hermione took a deep breath and sat down. A few minutes later, Healer Evans arrived. She followed her down the hall and to an exam room. She gulped and began.

"Last night I had unprotected sex with someone I can't remember. I was just wondering how soon you could tell if you're pregnant in the wizarding world," she said, all in one breath. She blinked and waited for the response. It was a while wait.

Finally, Healer Evans replied, "I could tell you now if you like."

Hermione thought for a while. "Could you tell me who the father is?"

Healer Evans shook her head, saying, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but even wizarding technology isn't that advanced. I could tell you if you're pregnant or not, though."

She took a deep breath. "I'd like to know if I'm pregnant but that's it. I don't want to know if it's a boy or a girl."

Healer Evans did some complicated wand movements and donned a healthy glow.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"Correct. I suggest you find out who the father is."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason why?"

Healer Evans shook her head while smiling. "I can't tell positively, and I don't want to get your hopes up (or down, for that matter). This baby will need a proper home and, with you being only out of school for a couple months, a stay at home parent (or two).

You'll need to get in some extra folic acid, calcium, iron, fluoride, fat, carbohydrates, and proteins found in certain fruits, vegetables, dairy products, and different fishes (but no amount of fish over twice every week)," she said, and handed Hermione a piece of paper of what she had just said. "I want you to follow this as closely as possible and, please, come back if you have any questions."

"Thanks, Healer Evans. I'll be sure to!"

**AN: I had a few suggestions for a title, but as soon as I wrote this chapter, I had an idea of my own. I hope you all now enjoy "The Game." It still shall remain semi-plot-less. Moldy-Shorts is dead and shall not resurface. Snape never turned bad and Sirius never died. Don't ask me how Harry killed Moldy-Shorts because… well, I don't even know. **

**My goal is now at least one thousand words per chapter. I went over by one hundred and seventy-five words.**

**James (the brother of John the apostle) was beheaded by Herod Agrippa and Harry's father's name is James. If you don't believe me, you can look up this information in the Book of Acts or go to behindthename (dot) com and look up James and read the description. I was actually going to look up another name for James for Harry to sign with but something compelled me to read the description of James and I found that information out. James Watt invented the steam engine, James Cook is a Captain/Explorer, and James Joyce is a poet. The name Harry signs with will change with every letter. **


	4. Mothered by a Flower

_Hermione;_

_This game _will_ last a while, don't you worry. And, you are welcome. You also gave me the most wonderful night of my life._

_I live roughly twenty kilometers away from your house (which was the first time I've been there, I should hint)._

_The cooking story is actually a sad one. I was orphaned shortly after I was born and taken in by family who enjoyed food but never wanted to make it, so they made me do it for them. I've never gotten an allowance in my life (except what my parents left me)._

_My owl can be very peevish at times. She likes a lot of attention, so try to pet her for a while before you reply. She'll get plenty of food and rest here but not as much attention as I'd like to give her. Yes, it's a her and her name is Edda. Don't as me, she picked it out._

_Your second hint is generic: I've graduated from a Wizarding school. Third: my father was an animagus. _

_A little bird told me that you went to St. Mungo's, but, since birds aren't allowed there, he couldn't tell me what you were in for? Are you alright?_

_Love,_

_Rohit Jugraj (conducted a movie called…(insert my father's name))_

Harry was satisfied with his letter. God, did he love the muggle's internet.

"Edda?" Harry said later the next day, giving her a break from flying. She squawked and ruffled her feathers importantly. Harry laughed. "I need you to take this to Hermione for me, girl."

She bobbed her head and Harry gave her the letter to take to Hermione's.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It was almost fifteen solid minutes of petting before Edda fell asleep. Hermione then took the letter to her bedroom and laid it on her desk and just stared at it for a few moments.

_Rohit Jugraj, _she started to reply after she read it,

_I like the names you use. Where ever did you find them?_

_I'm sorry to hear about your parents. How did your relatives treat you, besides not giving you an allowance for cooking food for them?_

_Edda's a very pretty name but how can an owl choose one? Or, better yet, how can she communicate with you? Are you that powerful of a wizard?_

_Generic hints are that, generic- but I'm bound to put them together eventually. I'm guessing it's not going to be as easy as looking up registered anamigi, but, then again, it may be. _

_Ah, yes, St. Mungo's was an interesting trip in itself. I learned that I am, indeed, pregnant. Healer Evan's suggested finding out who you are. I'm bound to find that much out, but, weather or not you want a son or a daughter (I didn't want to find that out), I'm having this child. I won't expect child support as I got a great sum of money for standing next to Harry Potter during the final battle. _

_I do hope one day to meet you and express my gratitude to you for giving me the chance to have kin. My parents died in the war so I've really got no one left except for the Weasley's and Harry Potter. The girls at Hogwarts weren't very good friends to me yet the Weasley's have informally adopted me; it's really great to have adults in your life who treat you like one of their own._

_Maybe one day we can meet in person, though, I would like to win this game before that happens. Since we're on the game topic, I have some questions for you._

_Do you have a girlfriend? If you don't, and you could pick any girl on earth, who would you choose?_

_Do you drink (well, that's a rhetorical question seeing as we were both drunk when we had sex), do drugs, or smoke? Have any tattoo's?_

_What is/are your favorite color/s? What was your favorite class, wherever you went? What's your favorite food? to cook? What color hair and eyes do you have?_

_Do you have a computer, laptop, neither, or both? If so, how did you get them to work with magic!? Were you good at school?_

_Well, I'm out of questions._

_Guess I should finish up and thanks again._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry waited the next week because Ron was back from Quidditch. And then Ron got sick and had to miss the next away game, so Harry and Hermione both had to wait two weeks for the next letter.

_Hermione;_

_Sorry for the wait, things have been busy here._

_We'll start at the beginning which is the middle for you. I have a laptop, computer, and internet. How I got them to work… my secret. And as to where I find the names, that'd be too big of a give-away. _

_I've never told anyone this, but I wasn't treated good with my relatives. Once I had a near death experience when I was six and the next day the results of my beating was gone. That was my first bout of accidental magic. Then I turned my teachers hair blue and got a cracked rib for it. After that, they never hit me again but my chores increased considerably for a six year old. When I didn't get them all done, I was sent to bed without food._

_How can an owl choose a name? Good idea, I have no clue, either. Edda communicates with me (and probably you, too) with wing gestures, head bobbing, and hoots and squawks. She would squawk when I read a bad name and hoot when she liked it. Eventually, it was between my favorite (Hallie) and hers (Edda). So, sometimes I call her Hallie, sometimes Edda. _

_People have said that I'm a powerful wizard but I'm uncomfortable about it being true; it seems overwhelming. _

_It's not going to be easy to figure out my dad's name as he's long gone and dead, though, with the hints I gave you, it might not be as daunting as it seems. _

_Ever since I wasn't treated decently with my relatives, I've wanted to give my children all the love and affection that I never got. There's no way in hell that I'd give up my child so only you could take care of her/him. And money's not an issue for you or me as I inherited a large sum of money from my parents. Holy crap are out kid/s going to be spoilt. And I have to thank you just as much for allowing me kin._

_Have you heard? Arthur Weasley's running for minister against Rufus Scrimgeour. I hope that he wins; lord knows Molly would be the proudest wife ever!_

_It was a very noble deed to stand next to Harry Potter during the final battle. I'm sure he appreciates it very much. And, just so you know, you mentioned him twice in your last letter. I'd not be surprised if you had a crush on him!_

_We shall meet in the future, no worry there. _

_Girlfriend? Where? If I could have any girl, anywhere, at any time, guess who'd I'd pick? I bet you now she's reading this… Same question back at you: do you have a boyfriend and if you don't, who do you want?_

_Me? Drink? You're the one that suggested firewisky over butterbeer. I've never done drugs (don't plan to) and the same goes for smoking. A tattoo would be nice now but not when I'm a grandpa so I decided to turn down the offer. _

_Hmn… my favorite color? That'd have to be white; it's so clean and pure. My favorite food happens to be Shepard's Pie and my favorite foods to cook are deserts. _

_I was more or less average during my first few years of school and kicked it up a notch the last few years. _

_And now it's time for some more hints! _

_Fourth: My mother and her sister were named after flowers. Fifth: I play Quidditch. What position? That's for later! Sixth: my mother was very good in potions and always looked for the positives in people. _

_Love,_

_Mothered by a Flower_

**AN: Edda is Italian for Hedwig. Rohit Jugraj conducted a movie called **_James_**, Harry's father's name.** **There are seven HP's separating scenes because seven is my favorite number. Back in chapter two, can anyone tell me how I got Ron and Harry's flat named "The Worrub"? Hermione has a part time job at Flourish and Blott's… I think (I haven't decided yet). **

**Harry's mom, Lily, and Harry's aunt, Petunia, are also names of flowers. **

**I went over by 358 words!**


	5. Lizard Eyes

_Mothered by a Flower;_

_I'm sorry to hear about your relatives. I could never imagine what you went through there, but I'm here for the loss of your parents. If this would be seven years ago I would have guessed straight away that you're Harry or Neville but your parents could have been alive and died during the war; you never specified. Now you could be anyone but Ron Weasley. _

_My eyes are sharper than you think; you called Mrs. Weasley by her first name. Does that mean you know her personally? How much older than me are you? I know… not that many people who are on first name's basis with her; Harry and Neville are both automatically out. Harry refuses to call her by her first name and I don't think Neville and her have met enough times to be on a first name basis. But, then again, I haven't seen Harry in ages around the Weasley's, so he might have changed. So. You could be Harry. _

_And about me mentioning Harry in my past letters, I only do so because we are such great friends. I couldn't imagine life without him. Speaking of which, I should meet up with him soon. _

Harry stopped reading; his heart gave an unexplained twinge of remorse. She didn't return his feelings? He set the letter down and let silent tears run down his face. It was pointless, playing the game if he didn't feel that way toward him.

"When was it I noticed Hermione, girl?" he asked Edda/Hedwig. She hooted four times. "Was it the beginning or end of fourth year? Oh, must be at the end when she kissed me on the cheek." Harry sighed. He didn't even think of the possibilities of rejection; he thought Hermione would return his feelings even if she didn't know it was him.

Harry laid the letter down and went about his business. A week later found him back at Godric's Hollow and found the partially un-read letter. He finished reading:

_Me? Have a boyfriend? Where? Unless, that is, you count us as boyfriend and girlfriend. Do you? I do. _

Harry smiled.

_Your mother and father seem like lovely people. _

_If you can't tell me what color your hair and eyes are, can you give me some more hints about what you look like? I'd really like to picture you, mystery man. _

_I can't possibly believe that I was the one to suggest firewhisky over butterbeer!_

_The fourth hint didn't help because I don't know many people's parents' names. The fifth will help me once you tell me what spot. I could always look up the records at… oh, wait, you haven't affirmed, denied, or opposed going to Hogwarts, so that won't help. Could you at least tell me how old you are? That would help immensely. _

_Guess it's time for me to get going as well. I'm sorry that it took so long to get this letter out._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

By the time Harry got the letter, it was well into Hermione's second month of pregnancy and nearing her third once he had time to privately reply.

_Hermione,_

_Thank you. I do not like pity, but a simple "I'm sorry," can mean the world to someone. I'll tell you this as your seventh hint: I know you, Ron, and Neville to some degree; could be school acquaintances, could be from the papers. _

_I am roughly the same age as you, give or take a few months. So. I _could _be Harry. What would you do if I was? Have you met with him yet? I'm sure he misses you. I sure do._

_Do I count you as a girlfriend? Possibly. I've never truly had a steady girlfriend so I don't know what signs make us such. _

_Right now my hair is Ron's color. And now, it's black. And now, a shade that matches yours. And now, I'm blond. Enough of a hint for you?_

_Same goes for my eyes, right now they're blue. And now, they're green. And now, a shade that matches yours. And now, I'm gray-eyed. _

_Which spot _do _I play? I have been told I'd make a great beater, though; I like small, gold flying objects._

_Could you send me some pictures once you start to show? I have an excellent idea that will incorporate us both into them (thanks to a dear, short, blond-haired person). I can send the completed pictures of us (me without my head, of course!). _

_Love,_

_Lizard eyes_

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

During the middle of Hermione's third month, she had some professional pictures taken of her and her ever-growing stomach. She sent them along with her next letter. Harry by-passed the letter and went straight for the pictures. The first few were of Hermione in a pink shirt, holding her stomach with care. The next couple were in a slinky (**not sleazy**) black dress.

Harry got started making a special chemical bath for the pictures to soak in and slowly added some of his more… prized ingredients… into the bath. Slowly, Hermione started blinking. He added more and waited ten more minutes. Finally, she sighed and burst into movement. She squinted through the murky water up at Harry.

"How dare you, Harry Potter! How dare you not tell… well, me… who you are!" she shrieked.

Harry crossed his arms. "It's a game that you agreed to play! And if you can't keep your mouth shut to… yourself… about me, I'm just going to have to cancel this procedure or find out a way to put a memory charm on you!"

Hermione's eyes glistened. "Put a memory charm on me? By grace, I say no! I can keep enough of a secret, thank you very much!" She grinned evilly. "Plus, it'll be more fun when… oh, when I find out. That just sounds so weird, talking about myself that way."

"So, you'll keep it a secret?"

"Yes! I promise!"

**First his set of hair and eyes match Ron, then the description of himself, Hermione, and Draco. I don't know… will Hermione figure this out? The dear, short, blond-haired person is…? Who can tell me? Hint: he likes to take pictures… what color are lizards? Green, of course! (Or, are they not? Oops if they aren't.). **

**Bah. I'm ten words off but I really wanted to stop here. Oh well.**

**Next chapter: Harry and Hermione meet… but, not because of the letters. How will Harry cope with an evening of Hermione talking about this mystery man?**


	6. Luxembourg Gardens

Harry grunted as a brown haired blob jumped onto his bed. Eyes flew wide open in surprise. "Hermione?"

"Wake-y, wake-y, sleepy head," she sung. He groaned and rolled over and groaned again.

"Six in the morning? What're you doing waking me up at _six_ in the morning?"

"It's Friday, silly," she said.

"Friday? Friday! You woke me up at six in the morning, _on a Friday? _I know it's our day today, but I told you I'd pick you up at eight, not you wake me up at six!"

"Fine," she grumbled and got out of his bed, "I'll just wait in the other room until you get up."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's going to take me longer than that to wake up!" he shouted. He tried his hardest to go back to sleep but gave up at six ten. By six-thirty, he was up, dressed, and fed. "What first?" he said, and plopped down on the couch.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know! This is our day! I shouldn't decided; we both should."

"… alright… we'll decide what we do after I get some money; muggle or wizarding?"

Hermione shrugged again, "Probably both."

"How much?"

This time, she grinned. "A lot!"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Shopping?"

"If you insist!" she said.

Harry glared. "That's not what I meant-"

"Oh, I knew what you meant, silly. Fine, we'll skip shopping for today."

Harry grinned back and stuck his tongue out.

"Such a baby!" said Hermione.

Harry just let low a laugh.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHP

"I'm parched," said Harry, who was carrying all of Hermione's clothes in various, different bags. They did end up going shopping after all and Harry wasn't happy about it in the slightest. Sure, he loved spending time with Hermione and all, but this whole shopping thing… he thought he could never get used to it. He grinned; he could if it meant more time with Hermione.

Hermione dragged Harry to her favorite café in the middle of Paris.

"Je voudrais un coca, sil vous plait," she recited. The man just stared at Harry.

"Same," he muttered, embarrassed.

"Ah, coming right up, Mr. Potter," he said, and bowed, showing his respect for Harry. Harry quickly changed his hair and eyes and hid his scar with his metamorphogus abilities. Hermione looked around to see if they were alone; not _too_ many people had heard.

"I'm afraid you've made a mistake," said Hermione, giggling, to the man when he had come back with their drinks, "My friend here looks a lot like Harry Potter but he's never been called such before!"

The man did a double take and murmured his apologies.

"It's alright, mate," said a jolly Harry and patted the man on the back, "There shall be a nice tip for you for doing such, it surely brightened my day!" The man bid them farewell and went back to work, happy at receiving such a great tip.

Once they left, they made a stop in a deserted ally to shrink all of Hermione's bags into a more… manageable load. Hermione picked up the bag and left the ally.

"Now what?" asked Harry.

Hermione took his hand and led him down some streets until they got to the Luxembourg Gardens.

"When were the Garden's made?" asked Harry out of curiousity.

"Uhm," said Hermione, racking her brain for the right answer, "in the mid 1860's, I believe." They spent near and hour there until lunch and promised to come back at night.

They then proceeded to Parisian lunch which lasted three hours. Harry and Hermione were both doing a good job avoiding a said topic.

Around four they went back to the gardens. Walking around the gardens proved to calm them both down (to some degree). They found a statue of St. Bathilde (Queen of France in the seventh century) and even a miniature Statue of Liberty. There was a pond where littler children were sailing boats and a merry-go-round as well. The ran across a bee-keeping school and tennis and boules courts, too. They were rounding a bend when they saw some children on horse. They barely scratched the surface of the twenty-five hectare's of grounds.

They then took two of the green chairs offered by the gardens to a more secluded place, but where they could still observe the sunset.

Harry sighed and Hermione was confused. "What's wrong?"

He sighed again. "It's hard," he started.

"What is?"

"Keeping up this façade."

"What façade?"

Harry let out a hearty laugh, saying, "You can't possibly make me think that you don't know! Are you that oblivious to all the clues I gave you? It hurts, Hermione, _it hurts._"

Hermione grinned a lopsided grin and said, "I was going to wait until the Eiffel Tower to say anything." Harry gave a genuine smile. He scooted his chair closer to Hermione's and took her hand.

"What about the not liking Harry Potter part?"

She rolled her eyes, saying, "I had to throw you off somehow, didn't I?"

Harry play-pouted. "That's not very nice of you, Hermione," he said.

She grinned. "I had it all planned out, actually. All of today, in fact."

He raised an eyebrow. "You did?"

"Well, maybe not _this _part, but the rest of it, yes. I knew I'd get you aggravated by going shopping and I wanted to make the first real day with me like no other."

"Everyday with you is like no other. I can't imagine a life without you," he confided.

Hermione smiled. "You just made my day," she said.

"No, Hermione, you just made mine."


	7. Month Five

One Month Later…

"This is my monthly check-up, Harry, you've got to go!" begged Hermione. Harry shivered; he still wasn't used to the fact of Hermione being even partially naked, even though they had been dating the past month. Hermione raised an eyebrow. "It's only my stomach you'd be seeing."

"I know, I know, I just don't know if I'm ready for that yet; I don't want to rush things too fast."

Hermione smiled. "I don't want to offend you or anything, but how would you know you're rushing things too fast?" Harry thought for a moment and wasn't offended.

"You're right. But I still don't know if I'm ready for that."

Hermione begged, "Please, at least come with me for moral support? I have to do this twice a month after today! It's not as easy as you think it is."

"Who said anything about being easy?"

"You're right. Please, come with me? It's only my stomach you'd be seeing."

Harry took a deep breath and walked into St. Mungo's with his girlfriend. But that wasn't the only thing he'd been stressing over. He only had about five months left before she had their baby and he didn't know if he'd be ready to propose in enough time. He at least wanted more than heated snogging to know they were ready for such a huge commitment.

"Hermione?" called Healer Evans. Then she grinned. "I see you've found the baby's father?"

Hermione joined her smile as Harry blushed. "Indeed I have! Shall we move on?"

"We shall," she said, and led them down the hall to room number seven.

Once in the room, Healer Evans had Hermione push up her shirt and gently poked her wand at Hermione's stomach. A little human-like for popped up in a screen-like fashion.

"Hey," Harry said, "that's pretty cool!"

Healer Evans poked Hermione's stomach one more time and a piece of paper popped out of no where. "The offer still stands to know what sex the baby is."

Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads 'no'.

"Alright, then I'll see you back here in two weeks.

**AN: Alright, it's short, yes, but it's my second chapter in one day!**


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